


Suddenly See You

by hummelmovinginc



Category: Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Dancing AU, Klaine, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummelmovinginc/pseuds/hummelmovinginc
Summary: It’s the June of 1965, Summer is here, the Beatles are taking over America and Blaine Anderson is taking on his first ever job at The Kellerman Resort.Dirty Dancing AU
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Suddenly See You

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly darker take on a Dirty Dancing AU— this idea would not leave me so of course I had to buckle down and write it. Sooo please enjoy chapter one, hopefully I can stick to updating this every week
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: homophobia

Summer 1965

The air was balmy and mellow as his parents dropped him off at Kellerman’s. [The Four Seasons](https://youtu.be/9zPTZ3cCr9Q) was blasting from the car radio, adding to the noise and bustle of the Kellerman Resort. His father was at the boot bringing Blaine’s suitcase out. He gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Enjoy yourself, Blaine.” His father said stiffly. Blaine’s skin prickled at the words but gave his father a tight smile as he took his suitcase off him. His mother gave him a hug, reaching up to plant a swift kiss on the cheek.

“You be good, anak.”

“Love you ma,” he said. “Hope you both have a safe flight.” 

A large hand clapped itself over Blaine’s shoulder before he could turn around to face the stranger, a resounding voice sounded out right by his ear.

“The Andersons! It’s so wonderful to see you all again.” Mr Kellerman went to shake Reymond Anderson’s hand firmly. “Can’t convince you folks to have a last minute week long stay? We really missed you last summer.” 

His Father laughed. “We’re off to the Philippines today, so I’m afraid not Max. Would be nice to kick our feet up here again though, keep up family tradition.”

Blaine couldn’t help but notice Mr Kellerman and his father having the same big graceless quality of movement with their firm shoulder pats, handshakes, belly laughs and the same unfriendly glint in their eyes. Blaine tried not to grimace as Mr Kellerman gave him another pat on the back.

“Well, I’m sure we can take care of Blaine while you’re out. Show him the ropes, nothing like a summer of hard work to make a man.” Said Mr Kellerman with a booming laugh.

Blaine gave an obliging laugh in return as his parents turned back to him.

“Here’s a copy of our address, make sure to write okay?”

“Ofcourse,” Blaine said, pocketing the note and moving to the boot of the car to retrieve his guitar, swinging the guitar case over one shoulder. He looked around for something to occupy him while his parents engaged in some dreaded small talk.

“A musician?” Asked Mr Kellerman, eyeing his guitar case.

“Yes, I’ve just finished one year at Juilliard.”

The summers felt more oppressive in the middle of Ohio than the little haven he’s found in New York. Or maybe it was just the people, he thought as he squinted against the harsh sun.

“A College boy! Perfect, and Julliard at that. Maybe you could be a singing waiter, give the entertainment staff a run for their money.”

—

A pressed uniform was in his arms before he knew it, Mr Kellerman assigning a passing boy in the bright white uniform to show Blaine to his rooms. The boy was tall, lanky with these piercing green eyes that looked Blaine up and down. A part of Blaine was acknowledging how handsome the boy was in that classic American sort of way.

“Which college are you from, new guy?” He asked as they walked through the familiar green sweeping grounds. It had the same crowds of people that Blaine remembered, the flurry of activity surrounding him as Archie, the portly middle aged man he saw at the resort every year was yelling down his megaphone, listing the activities coming up that day. Music was blaring from some speakers somewhere. They navigated through the crowds effortlessly, people moving aside at the sight the uniform. Blaine noticed the long lingering looks the older women gave them.

“Juilliard.”

“Hmm, New York. Impressive,” the boy spoke with a slow drawl, like he was passing judgement with every word that left his mouth. “Must be very liberal over there.” 

Blaine raised a questioning eyebrow. “I guess so?”

“I’m Sebastian.” He turned to Blaine with this maddening smirk “Not to bring this up so soon, but you must be as queer as a three dollar bill, I can read it all over you.”

Blaine, startled, gave a paranoid _look_ behind and around him, heart rate surging in case somebody over heard. The guests were oblivious, some children were running around with delighted screams nearby. “Excuse me?”

Sebastian gave him a knowing look, as if to say, “ _so you are then.”_ Blaine’s heart was hammering, unable to speak, or even deny the accusation.

“I’m just saying, Kellerman wants us around to give the daughters a good time. We stand there, make small talk on the balconies, show them the stars and make them feel special. Even the dogs. So you gotta do something about that unassuming repressed small town homosexual image you got going on. It would help if you stopped ogling every attractive guy you came across.”

They were at the lake now, and he knew beyond this was the staff only part of the camp— the litter of vacationers thinning. Blaine walked quickly as to not allow anybody passing hear anything substantial of what came out of Sebastian’s mouth.

Sebastian leaned in close. Blaine sucked a breath in. “I don’t know what your time here as a kid getting coddled by his parents every summer has led you to think of this place, but you should know lots of things happen behind the scenes here that you shouldn’t involve yourself with.” Blaine tried to give nothing away on his face as he felt Sebastian’s scrutiny. Finally the other boy shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m just looking out for you is all.”

Blaine spent the rest of the walk in disbelieving silence while Sebastian offered some passing comments and insights being one of Kellerman’s dashing college waiting boys. Blaine couldn’t bring himself to even give him a half hearted response. They finally came to a row of small cabins, stopping at the one at the end next to the woods.

“This one’s yours, shy guy. We meet at 4.30 to set up the dining rooms and begin our evening shifts,” Sebastian turned to leave, but stopped. He leant against the wood railing that surrounded the cabin’s porch, gazing intently, eyes boring into Blaine’s. “My cabin’s just down there if you need me.”

Blaine ducked into his cabin, his face flushing hot. He collapsed onto the bed with a fluttering panic in his chest.

This was going to be a long summer.

-

The heat was stifling in the white suits, but his first shift was going a lot better than he hoped. Mr Kellerman found him when dinner started and led him to a table of a family with two daughters.

“This is Blaine Anderson, I’m sure you’ve seen him around. Blaine, the Oakes are my special guests so you make sure they have everything they need, okay?”

“The Anderson’s boy?”

Blaine did that obliging polite laugh he was so well practiced at. “Yes sir, I thought I’d pick up a summer job while my parents go to the Pacific for a vacation.”

“Good for you,” the father gave him an appraising look.

It turned out, all he needed to do was smile, make small talk, take orders and humour the girls fawning over him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent most of his life with the same polite small talk in the overly big and lavish dining halls. He took to the job like a duck to the water.

By the time it was dessert, the family were consumed in a conversation about the girl’s going to college, the United Kingdom and the Beatles; Blaine couldn’t help but zone out and let his eyes wander. He noticed the pianist was packing up, while a small acoustic band was setting up their gear. He could see they had this enviable easy banter between them, inaudible over the buzz of dinner chatter.

There were only three of them, a tall dark haired man was on the guitar— _was he wearing makeup_ ? A blonde girl was lightly tapping a beat on the cajon drum while the younger of the three was setting up his mic stand. When the singer straightened up to test his mic, Blaine’s breath hitched. _God he was beautiful_. His delicate features were set off by that pale pallor of his, making him look so otherworldly—

“Blaine, could you please fetch us another jug of water?”

“Yes of course.”

He made his way to the kitchen, the empty jug in hand, ears pricked up and alert for the band to start. When he was making his way back to the table, the first few notes rose up.

“[ _Yeah I tell you something_](https://youtu.be/lvt1DFkeoDI),

_I think you’ll understand.”_

He slowed his walk, turning towards the music, entranced. The boy’s voice was so soft and unusual; this angelic bell-like quality that flowed through the room. Blaine put the jug down on the table, refilling glasses with a flourish before moving back to the side.

_“I wanna hold your hand.”_

“Mom, they’re singing the Beatles!” One of the girls was squealing excitedly.

“Martha, please just _compose yourself_ while we’re at dinner in front of everybody.”

Blaine stood there unashamedly watching, he’d never heard the popular song been sung with such a melancholic arrangement before. Obviously these guys must be studying musicians, coming up with something so clever. Plus, a countertenor like that must have been snatched up by any reputable music college. Maybe he was an actor even, it would be a sin for such a unique look to not be on Broadway—

“Don’t even think about it, Rock Hudson.”

Blaine indignantly closed his mouth he didn’t realise was gaping open in awe and glared at Sebastian who’d appeared out of nowhere next to him. 

“You don’t want to associate with any of the entertainment staff, that guy especially.” Sebastian’s voice was low, barely audible but enough to get under Blaine’s skin. “If you’re seen with the Kellerman fruitcake, you’re done for.”

“Can you stop?” Blaine gritted out, eyes hard and staring straight ahead trying to quell down his anger.

“What, Giving you the pointers you need to last out here?” Sebastian’s face was knowing, cocky and punchable.

“You don’t even know who I am. These ‘pointers’ aren’t helping anybody.” Blaine fists were clenched. He snuck a quick look to the tables around him, but they were safe, the guests were busy either tucking into the last of their desserts or enjoying the band as they drank those sickly sugar frosted cocktails. They weren’t concerning themselves over two waiters bickering. “And stop pretending like you know the first thing about me.”

For the first time Sebastian looked caught off guard, but he recovered in an instant. “If you insist,” he said airily before sauntering away.

-

The guests had cleared away after a while, moving into the main hall where the dancing and the main acts were. He busied himself by stacking plates and cutlery and trying to avoid Sebastian’s pointed gaze. When he started sweeping the floors to catch the mess under the tables, Mr Kellerman bustled into the room, eyes roving the room until they landed on Blaine. 

“Blaine Anderson! Leave that to somebody else. I need you to come and meet some people.”

Blaine looked around in surprise, but followed regardless. He found himself outside by a staff exit with the guitarist from dinner and a muscled blonde boy who regarded him curiously. It was dark outside now, the outdoor lights strung up gaudily made the expansive grounds look so appealing. The heat was rising up from the ground and the crickets and cicadas were chirping merrily.

“Sam, Eliott, this is Blaine Anderson. Now, I’m introducing you since the girls were loving that Beatles medley of yours at dinner, Elliott. So…” Kellerman rubbed his hands excitedly “I want you boys to put together a Beatles Tribute group!” He announced, staring at them expectantly as if they were going to cheer. Elliott and Sam just looked at eachother. “See it as a promotion you two. And Blaine you’ll only need to work breakfasts to fit in rehearsal times. I have a feeling this is gonna really bring us up to date with the times.” 

The Guitarist— Elliott, Blaine presumed, sized him up with a cool stare. Now he was closer, Blaine could see the black kohl smudged under his eyes. Was he possibly similarly inclined as Blaine, wearing something like _makeup_ so openly. “You play, college boy?”

Kellerman barked out a laugh. “He’s from Julliard, of course he does. You fix his hair and he looks exactly like that Paul McMillan fellow the girls are swooning over. You go off and recruit the right sort of boys for the band and have a set list prepared. I want you performing by Friday.” He clapped a final hand on Blaine’s shoulder with a “Good luck kid,” before making his way back to the building, humming tunelessly, clearly pleased with himself.

When the door slammed shut, Sam let out a long whistle of disbelief. “Friday? That’s only three days away.” 

_Three days_ , Blaine considered thoughtfully. He had to admit, the prospect of playing in a band was far more appealing to him than having to witness more stilted dinners “We’ll need one more person to do the Beatles. Do you play the drums?” Blaine asked the blonde, who shook his head.

“I can only do bass or guitar.”

Elliott was still staring at Blaine, he could see Elliott was thinking, mulling over some conflict. Finally, he said, “Can you keep a secret Julliard?”

Blaine almost laughed in surprise. _If only they knew._ “Of course I can.” 

“Great, then you’re coming with us. We’re recruiting tonight.” Elliott started making his way down towards the sparkling lake, the lights glinted promisingly against the water. Sam gave Blaine a reassuring smile before he ran to catch up with Elliot.

“I wanna be George!”

-

Sam kept up a constant enthusiastic chatter about songs and ideas and _“The Beatles, man!”._ Occasionally, from Sam’s prompting, Blaine told them about his dad setting him up with a summer job here before he started his second year of Julliard that fall and how he spent almost every summer at Kellerman’s for as long as he could remember. He learned that this was Elliot’s second year at Kellerman’s and Sam’s first. Both were musicians, but Sam also taught dance classes. They padded well past the lake and up a dimly lit inclined path. 

Blaine looked up as he heard the straining sounds of The [Contours](https://youtu.be/epPiqIUlhPU) playing in the distance.

_“Do you love me?_

_(Do you love me?)”_

“Almost there,” Elliot called back. They climbed up a long wooden staircase that led to a building that glowed from within. The light alluringly thrumming and the sounds of people— whooping and laughing leaked from the inside. 

Elliot opened the doors. The air inside was damp and smoky, the music loud and seductive in his ears. He didn’t move from the door, as all he could do was stand shock still and _stare._ There was a writhing mass of bodies, people paired up and dancing so close and intimately, some people kissing and _grinding_. Blaine blinked, his lips parting. His mouth went dry.

_“Do you like it like this?_

_(Do you like it like this?)”_

A large cheer rose up, with some voices calling out to Sam and Elliot. The people near Blaine were shooting distrusting glances at him as they moved to the music. He shuffled uncomfortably, suddenly feeling so out of place with his blazer and _stupid bow tie._

“Take your blazer off, Julliard,” said Elliott. He moved into the crowd, the swell of bodies obscuring him from Blaine’s view.

When he could finally bring himself to move, he shrugged off the blazer, putting it one of the hooks by the door. He reached up to undo a button on his shirt as he swallowed thickly.

“I think I need a drink,” Blaine said absently. “Where’d they learn to dance like that?”

“Kids doing it in their family’s basements, probably.” Sam laughed, “can you imagine everybody dancing like _that_ out there with the family foxtrot? Kellerman would shut the place down.” Sam handed him a cold bottle, which Blaine drank gratefully, only just realising it was beer.

_“(Work, work),_

_A little bit of soul now,”_

Blaine’s eyes scanned the crowd, these people so lost in the music, forgetting their inhibitions as they rocked against each other indulgently. 

Blaine stopped short.

His eyes found two men locked in an embrace moving together. He couldn’t help but stare so openly, unable to tear his eyes away from them as they swayed and moved. One of the man’s roaming hands reached up to grasp the other’s face and they _kissed._ Blaine let out a soft gasp, unable to tear his eyes away in fascination. He slowly noticed they weren’t the only men dancing with each other scattered amongst the crowd. Men and women mixed with each other so boldly and closely. _God,_ he hadn’t seen anything like that since New York. He let out a long breath and took another swig of his drink.

He realised Sam was watching him, the fear clear on his face. Was he afraid that Blaine was going to tell Kellerman _the entertainment staff is full of homosexuals?_

“You still able to keep that secret?”

Blaine looked at Sam. And surprised himself as a genuine smile found itself on his lips for the first time that summer. “You have no idea.”

Sam’s composure eased substantially after that. Blaine leaned against the bar just to savour this warm heady atmosphere. Eyes watching the crowd hungrily, searching for that flash of porcelain skin and brilliant blue eyes.

 _There_.

Then his heart sank a little as he watched the boy and Elliott in each other’s arms. Their bodies were so close together, the boy’s white shirt was mostly unbuttoned, sticking to him so sinfully as he shone with sweat. Elliott’s hands gripped him at the waist, so close to the waistband of his tartan— dear god— his tartan _shorts._ Those hands roamed a little lower to the curve of the boy’s ass as the music grew, the boy let out a laugh. They both were breathlessly grinning at each other. Blaine took another long hard drink. Then pressed the cold bottle against his hot face.

“They look great together,” he said dimly.

Sam looked amused. “Yeah you’d think they were a couple, wouldn’t you?”

He lifted his head from his bottle to stare at the two again, Elliot was saying something into the boy’s ear. The boy leaned in close, listening intently, his eyes dark, their bodies still breathtakingly close and moving to the music.

“Aren’t they?”

“Not really. Elliot just helps Kurt out a lot is all.”

Blaine turned to look at Sam, taking in those muscled arms that his Kellerman’s shirt barely accommodated, the blonde hair a shade too bright to be natural; the way he wasn’t fazed by seeing homosexuals dancing together so openly. Maybe Blaine could read him the same way Sebastian made the scarily accurate judgement of Blaine.

“Sam,” Blaine cleared his throat, struggling to speak. “Are you…?”

“Oh _no_.”

 _Nevermind_.

Sam laughed. “No, I’ve just known Kurt and his stepbrother most of my life and I really owe it to them, y’know? I guess I found the way Kurt swung a bit strange at first, but I got used to it and realised that’s just how some people _are_.”

Blaine hummed in agreement. “If only more people were like that.”

The music must’ve changed a while back but Blaine’s brain was too busy short circuiting to notice. [Love Man](https://youtu.be/ORmW9de6PZg) was now blasting from the sound system, changing the rhythm of the crowd’s dancing. When his eyes went back to find Kurt and Elliot in the crowd, they then grew wide as he realised they were heading towards Sam and Blaine at the bar. Elliot made a beeline for Sam and said something to him. He heard Elliot say the words ‘Finn’ and ‘Cabin’, but the rest of the sentence was drowned out by the music. Sam stepped away from the counter, nodding.

“We’re off to find our drummer, but he’s in a foul mood at the moment. Stay here and wait with Kurt?” Sam said. 

Blaine almost melted. He could’ve kissed Sam, or whichever God was smiling down at him for this trick of fate. Instead he tried to not smile too wide and said “Sure thing.” He watched them navigate through the mass of bodies, before he could bring himself to look at Kurt, leaning against the counter. The boy was watching him, those perfect eyebrows raised.

“So Kellerman had the bright idea to make a Beatles Tribute band?”

“Thanks to your set tonight, of course,” Blaine said quickly.

Kurt shot him a small smile, before reaching down to grab Blaine’s hand, tugging him onto the dance floor. “Your flattery has won you a dance.” He quipped cheekily. Blaine’s brain ceased to function for a moment as he just watched Kurt slip into the music so easily, movements so free and irresistible. His mouth tried to form words to continue the conversation then gave up as his mind drew up blank.

Kurt looped his hands around Blaine’s neck, trying to urge Blaine to move with him, hand moving down to Blaine’s hip to guide the movement. His touch was so cool, hands soft. Blaine was no stranger to dancing but, something about this boy made him feel so fumbling and awkward.

“You new here?” Kurt shouted above the music.

“Yeah, started today actually.” Blaine responded, grateful words were no longer an impossible task for him. “I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

He let out a soft gasp as Kurt’s white fingers reached up to his collar, fiddling with the bow tie there until it unravelled and hung loosely around Blaine’s neck.

“What—“ 

“There’s no point leaving this bow tie on when you’ve unbuttoned your shirt like that.” Kurt gave him an approving look. “There we go, you look like one of us now.” 

He didn’t know how much time passed as they danced together, with those guiding hands so steady. Blaine reached forward, hands hesitant, as if asking permission. Kurt’s blue eyes glinted, pink lips quirking up in a smirk. Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and placed it on his waist.

“No need to be shy here.”

Blaine let out an embarrassing groan, pulling Kurt’s body closer, the music lulling him into this alluring trance. He let his head rest on Kurt's shoulder, face to close to the nape of his neck. He longed to kiss over that pale column, whisper sweet nothings in that ear. He refrained, just revelling in the feeling of holding such a beautiful man in his arms.

He felt Kurt freeze, making Blaine pull away curiously.

“Kurt?” He watched as the boy glanced at the watch on his wrist, and cast a hurried look out through the windows. A few strands over hair had escaped from the coiffed style. He looked so deliciously disheveled, it sent something hot down Blaine.

“Sorry Blaine. I have to go. I hate to leave you alone here, but I’m sure Sam and Elliot will be back in no time.”

Before Blaine could make a sound of protest, the boy slipped away into the crowd, heading for the door. The sweet smell that stayed on Blaine’s clothes was the only proof the boy had ever really been there.


End file.
